Battered Hulls and Broken Hardships
by redisthenewblackington
Summary: A smutty alternate ending to Marvin Gerard. Basically PWP. Lizzington.


AN: You wanna know the problem with writing for a living? It means that writing for fun gets tossed to the backburner, and such is the case here. It took forrrrrever to write this smutty little "ship in a shipping container on a ship" fic. So anyway, here we are, a PWP one-shot. I hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: These are borrowed characters, and no profits are being made here.

-...-...-...-...-

I had a dream last night

and when I opened my eyes

your shoulderblade, your spine

were shorelines in the moonlight

new worlds for the weary

new lands for the living

I could make it if I tried

I closed my eyes

I kept on swimming

(Josh Ritter, Change of Time -And yes, I borrowed my title from this song too)

"That's what I see when I look at you. I see my way home."

Liz's breath caught in her throat as she turned her gaze towards him, but he only tilted his chin further up, studiously avoiding her questioning eyes.

"What... what does that mean?"

Red turned his head away entirely then, but said nothing. Since they've been on the run, he'd been more forthright with her, and tonight more than ever. She knew that she shouldn't press her luck, especially now that she had so little, but she was so, so tempted, and in so many ways.

She took a single step towards him, but he stepped back. Maybe she should have taken the hint, but she decided to go for a 'yes' or 'no' question instead. "Is it about finding your daughter? Am I linked to her somehow?" In truth, Liz didn't think it was about her at all, but she had to be sure, first...

Finally, he chanced a quick glance at her before looking up at the sky again. "No."

"Hm... is it because you..." she trailed off and took another step forward, just close enough to feel the warmth of his body, boldly resting one palm over his heart.

"Lizzie," he whispered as he quickly took a step back.

"Oh... oh god. I'm sorry." She spun on her heel in a rush towards the door, her cheeks flushed with the cold air and her burning hot embarrassment.

He wanted to run after her, wanted to wrap his arms around her and kiss her until she saw stars - stars much brighter than the ones in the sky. But she couldn't have meant it. She couldn't possibly look at him the way he looks at her, especially since she seems thoroughly convinced that he loved her mother. He didn't, and had been evasive every time she grappled for an answer. It was just easier to let her believe that. It was easier for both of them.

Of course, nothing about this was easy, either. He spent a few more minutes gazing at the open sea, searching for answers of his own. When he had finally made his decision, he took a deep breath and re-entered the shipping container, hoping he wasn't too late.

She was on the couch, deliberately turned away from him and trembling slightly. Crying probably, and it was his fault... again. He bit back the urge to offer her the other slice of pie as he keyed in the code to lock the door behind them, and slowly made his way closer to her.

"Lizzie," he began, taking a seat on the other side, quite certain that she wouldn't want him too close. When she made no move to face him, he decided to go on anyway, as if she had. "Somehow, presumably from my actions, you inferred that I was once framed as well... While I'd rather not discuss that story, I can at least confirm that you're correct. To even prove that I was set up won't bring back the life I once had, but still, I do need you..."

He meant to go on, to explain what he had meant, but she snapped around, her red-rimmed eyes digging into his, and muttered, "Need, not want. Got it. You don't have to explain yourself. It's fine. You don't owe me anything."

"There isn't a man on earth with a beating heart that wouldn't want you."

"I'm not talking about other men. No other man considers me his 'way home'. In fact, no other man has done a lot of the things that you've done for me. I misinterpreted your intentions, but I'm sure you'll forgive me. You always do."

"You've done nothing that needs to be forgiven." Unable to bear the space between them, he stood and sat beside her, pulling her into his arms. He took a deep, shuddering breath through his nose, instantly high on her scent and the warmth of her body. "So then... you do know that I was never in love with your mother."

She snorted. "I had my suspicions, but when I added them up, they just didn't hold."

"It was wrong of me to ever let you believe it."

"Maybe, but I can see now why you did - to prevent *this* from happening."

"Lizzie, I couldn't possibly not want you."

She waited for him to go on, but quickly grew inpatient. "But?"

"But? Well, you couldn't possibly want me... I don't mean to belittle you or tell you what your feelings are, but you've suffered a trauma unlike any other. I got you out, and that's enough for me. I'm grateful for that. Let that be enough for you." He paused, uncertain about adding the rest, but with his eyes closed, he rolled the dice. "... at least, for now."

If his response surprised her, she didn't show it. In fact, she felt encouraged, emboldened. Certain. "You also got me out because YOU know me, because you trust me, because we're a team. I'm not going to beg, but I will tell you this: we're in this together, and you know how stubborn I am. I'm not going to just change my mind after we've cleared my name... well, unless you're bad in bed. Are you?" Though her eyes still glistened, she wore a coy, beguiling smile.

"Well..." Oh god, his tenuous grip on his self-control was slipping exponentially. He just couldn't, with her. "I don't like to toot my own horn."

She leaned in and brushed her nose over his, licking her lips in anticipation. "Then allow me." She didn't even wait for a response. She didn't close her eyes or take a breath. She just softly pressed her lips against his and reached up to grab the back of his head in encouragement, anticipating the terrible possibility of rejection but refusing to acknowledge it. He froze entirely, his hands rigid on her back, stunned.

But she persisted, and softly still. Her lips grazed and pressed and puckered. Her fingers threaded through his hair and slipped across his scalp, tingling with electricity. When his lips softened, relenting only the slightest bit, she sucked the bottom one into her mouth and he let out the sweetest, lowest moan she'd ever heard - or rather, felt, as it jolted straight to her core.

If that wasn't a victory, then she didn't know what was. He dropped his gentlemanly patience and responded with every inch of his body. One hand went to the nape of her neck, and the other to her hip, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to eagerly touch her bare skin. His lips parted in anticipation of her tongue, welcoming but not insisting. When it slipped past his teeth, he growled and gripped her hip. His tongue gliding over hers felt as smooth and jolting as an ice cube melting in her mouth, but scorching hot instead of cold. Their tongues caressed, explored, and glided against one another exquisitely.

He gave her hip the slightest tug towards him. Yet another invitation, and yes, yes, she wanted to accept, and so she did, nimbly swinging one leg over him to straddle his waist. They moaned in tandem as she let her weight sink down, and he gave a short upwards thrust against her. While being the center of Raymond Reddington's universe was thrilling, having him at her own center was all-consuming.

She fully intended to consume him first.

Boldly, she reached between them to adjust him into a more comfortable position, earning a grunt of approval before she began to grind against him in earnest. Her hips rolled in perfect time with the sensuous rolling of his tongue over hers - accidental at first, but then intentional.

She unbuttoned his vest in a frenzy, already near her tipping point. At the last button, Red pulled back, licking his lips and locking his eyes on hers. "What?" she asked between panted breaths.

"Is this -" he pulled her down tightly against him before adding, "what you really want?" The flutter and backwards roll of her eyes should have been answer enough, but it wasn't, so he waited.

"Yes."

"Is it just because of what I said? Have you given it any prior thought?"

She rocked against him twice before answering, "I can't tell if you just want me to stroke your ego by saying that I've fantasized about you, or if you're trying to protect me somehow."

He lifted one eyebrow and gave a simultaneous upwards thrust. "Can it be both? Have you?"

"You know," she began, and then leaned forward to plant a line of open-mouthed kisses from the crook of his neck and up to his ear, where she whispered, "Every time I've had a dream about you, you never, ever make me come. But it's very promising. I'm always so close, but then I just wake up." He sucked in a tense breath, as if she'd knocked the wind out of him. "Does that count? I think that counts."

"Oh yes, that counts, but should I apologize?" He looked torn between smugness and sincerity. His dream self clearly had a lot to learn, but maybe that was just her subconscious, trying to drive her forward into having the real thing. He certainly couldn't be sorry for that.

"I think you know what to do..."

"Is that why you're so prickly in the mornings?"

"You don't always make it easy, you know."

No. No, he did not know. He'd had his suspicions, but always assumed that her morning frustration was being displaced and misdirected towards him. The little jokes at her expense were because he thought that she'd been dreaming about Tom.

That little revelation changed everything.

He stood abruptly, his hands on her waist steadying as her feet hit the floor. She looked on in confusion as he pushed the coffee table back and picked up the little remote that sat upon it. With a single button, the couch began to whir and open up, unfolding itself into what was no doubt a very comfortable bed. "Music?" he asked.

"Got any Black-Eyed Peas?" she replied, smirking.

He stared at her blankly, unamused.

"Kidding. Sorry. Whatever you'd like is fine, unless it'll take you all night to decide."

He sauntered over to the record player, relishing the weight of her heated gaze on his backside, and selected a Coltrane record. Upon setting the needle down, a few light piano notes began to play softly, kicking off one of his favorite songs. He toed off his shoes and socks and opened the cabinet to pull out a blanket and two pillows.

When he turned around, his jaw dropped in shock and awe. Lizzie had quickly and quietly disrobed, and now sat kneeling in the center of the bed, smirking in anticipation of his reaction.

And react, he did, with a roll of his tongue, a stutter, and stare. "You... you are... I'm stunned. You're stunning." He had been looking forward to stripping her down slowly, revealing and delighting in her body piece by piece, but right now, it was all he could do not to come in his pants, fall to his knees, and weep at her beauty. He wasn't complaining.

He continued gaping as she leaned forward and slowly crawled towards him, breasts and hips both swaying hypnotically. Propped up on her knees, she slipped his unbuttoned vest off of his shoulders and tossed it on the coffee table. She untucked his dress shirt and unbuttoned it slowly, from the bottom up, making eye contact the whole time. His lack of undershirt was a surprise, but his ample smattering of chest hair wasn't, and she delighted in its both soft and course texture.

He lifted his hands slowly, using concentrated precision in his effort to finally touch her, but she swatted them away and arched an eyebrow in reproach. Without further explanation, she peeled his shirt off and cast it aside. What his suits concealed so well brought a smile to her lips. She could spend days wandering his strong, bare shoulders with her hands, but before she allowed herself the indulgence, she took a moment to examine the tattoo on his right arm. "The spider peeling the spade has always intrigued me. Your other tattoos have little notations, in your dossier. Explanations. I know that the longitude and latitude coordinates are where your daughter was born. I'm familiar with the symbolism of the albatross. But this one, I sense that it has a very fascinating story behind it." She leaned over to press a soft kiss to the ink, and then sensually glided her tongue along its perimeter, earning a shiver and a hitch of his breath.

It struck Red as a possible coercion technique, and while he was in no mood for storytime, in this moment, he'd tell her anything and everything that she might ask of him. He swallowed thickly past a sudden, gripping fear - that she intended to do just that, and that she wasn't simply naked because she wanted him. "Well, yes..."

She pressed her index finger against his lips. "Not now."

She couldn't possibly fathom just how deep his love goes, but in moments such as this, she also proves that he cannot fathom it either.

Before finally perusing his shoulders, she took both of his hands and placed them on her hips. He instantly pulled her forward so that their bare chests were lightly pressed together as they kissed. Very slowly, she began to massage his shoulders, her nimble fingers making their way to his back.

It wasn't her intent to react, but then in the textured web of his burn scars, her fingertips found what felt like placeholders made especially for them, and she couldn't help it. Her lips fell away from his, and her head dropped to rest against his wildly-beating heart.

At times, fate can be wicked and painful, but pain always demands to be felt.

"Red..."

"I know," he whispered.

She held him for a long moment, until he twitched and began to soften against her hip. Realizing this, her next feeling was one of regret, for getting emotional, for reacting to something that wasn't even a surprise. It just was. He just was.

Enough of that.

Determined to reclaim the heat from only minutes ago, she swiftly grabbed his belt and undid it with a flick of her wrist. Red took her hands before she could pull it free from his belt loops. "You don't have to do that."

"I didn't have to shoot Connolly either, but I did it for you, because I want you, alive, all of you - scars and secrets included."

His eyes closed, pain and guilt swirling behind their heavy lids. Why would she do that for him? And why bring it up now? The topic deserved a real, proper conversation. He pushed it from his mind as quickly as he possibly could.

"Deal _with that_ ," she added, and he couldn't help but smile as he thought about the first time she'd said those words. Funny, that memory used to twist in his gut like a knife, and not so long ago.

How far they'd come.

He released her hands and reclaimed both her hips and mouth at once, pulling her too closely for her to even finish undoing his trousers. Her fingers quickly found their designated places on his back as she returned his kiss with equal passion. Soon, his heavy arousal was grinding against her lower belly once again, blinding with the intensity of his need for her. Unable to resist for another moment, she pulled back and dropped her lips to his carotid pulse, drawing a heady groan from deep within his chest as she hastily divested him of the last of his clothing.

Red made an attempt to push her shoulders backwards, intending to lay her down and follow suit, but she wrapped a single hand around him and instead he could only use her shoulders to brace himself. She took just the tip of him into her mouth and used both hands to graze along his inner thighs. Her eyes only met with his briefly as she lowered her jaw to take him in further. Her tongue worked along the underside, pressing him to the roof of her mouth as she sucked until he hit the back of her throat. She had to swallow repeatedly to keep from gagging, and even so, barely half of him fit.

He panted and struggled against the urge to thrust himself all the way down her throat. "God, Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie! You have to st- I can't help it if I-"

She released him and licked a single line along the entire length of his shaft, from base to tip. "Okay, but you have to make me a promise."

"Anything."

"One day, you'll let me do this for you again, to completion." Noting his incredulous stare, she dropped her head and sucked on the soft flesh of his lower belly, his erection grazing against her cheek as he gasped in surprise and shuddered.

Aha! Another weak spot. Liz filed that information away in the back of her mind, like so many other new things she'd learned about him.

She leaned away and crawled backwards to lay on the bed. He mirrored her motions as if pulled by an invisible rope, until he lay cradled between her welcoming thighs, the weight of his upper body resting on his elbows. He then shifted his weight to one arm and rolled to the side just a bit, lowering his head to take one of her breasts between his lips. His free hand lovingly stroked downward until it arrived at the juncture between her thighs, but then he seemed content to just leave it there while his tongue rolled over her nipple endlessly.

"Red, please," she whimpered, bucking against his motionless hand.

"Mmm... need something, dear?" His thumb brushed over her clit and then pressed down as he worked two fingers inside of her. Her yelp came out in perfect harmony with the groan he belted at her readiness for him. With slick fingers, he stroked her inner walls while moving on to her other breast.

In mere seconds, her breathing became shallow and ragged, her hips working harder under his hand. "Close already?"

She shook her head. "No." But she wasn't thinking clearly. She just didn't want him to stop.

"Liar, liar," he playfully chastised, removing his hand in order to grasp hers and wrap it around his cock. "This isn't a dream, Lizzie. You'll be getting off one way or another, I promise. Choose."

"Can't I have both?"

"I'd rather be inside you the first time I make you come, if that's okay with you."

Without thought, she began to stroke him. "I want that too. I want you to feel it - to feel what I'm feeling."

"God, Elizabeth," he groaned.

In a flash, he was on top of her again, aligning himself. The only thing left to do was push forward, so he framed her face with his palms and looked into her eyes. The words never came out, but in his heavy gaze lay an offering - a final chance to change her mind.

"Having second thoughts?" she inquired, "Because I'm not."

In reply, Red began to slowly push into her, inch by inch, but her eyes squeezed shut before he'd even made it halfway.

In pleasure or pain? He couldn't tell, so he froze, waiting for a sign. Soon her eyes fluttered open and she wrapped her legs around his waist. "I'm okay. Just keep it slow."

Now was not the time for this particular thought, but Red still smiled to himself when it sprang into his mind. As suspected, he was more than she was used to having. Bigger, and almost certainly better too. In turn, he took even greater pleasure from their union as he gradually stretched and filled her completely. At the hilt, he froze once again, but this time as much for himself as for her. He kissed her slowly and tenderly, taking deep, measured breaths through his nose. He couldn't allow himself to blow it now, but he also couldn't have promised that he wouldn't, either.

"God, Lizzie. You have no idea how good you make me feel - not _just_ now, but now especially."

She reached down to grab his ass and pull him more tightly against her, squeezing around his cock as if to permanently fuse them together. Red hissed and arched his back while she trembled steadily beneath him, every cell in her body awakened by his heat and screaming for friction. From the way his weight was distributed, pressing down in all the right places, she could easily come now, in this way, despite the sweet agony of his stillness.

But he slowly began to move, sliding smoothly out and then back in again. She cursed under her breath, clinging to him as if the ocean below might open up and swallow them whole.

And it was _intense_ , so intense that even Red had tears in his eyes.

Soon, she unhooked her legs and planted the soles of her feet into the mattress, using them for leverage to meet every thrust. With each lift of her hips, she squeezed herself around him, utterly destroying the delicate panache he had tried to infuse into his motions. He briefly froze and pressed even deeper each time, every muscle in his body tensed as if bracing for a car crash. "You're doing that on purpose," he growled into her ear before lightly nipping at her carotid pulse.

"Mmhm, and you like it."

"God, yes. I do."

That rumbling, growling tone again. He knew exactly what it did to her, but he wasn't doing it on purpose - at least, not this time.

He reached beneath her to grab her ass and pull her close as he suddenly slammed into her core. Through the haze of his passion, he noted how lovely she looked when he made her eyes roll back, so he kept doing it. Even if he wanted to stop, he couldn't have. She was too tight and warm and delicious, and _everything_ , really. She was everything.

Her orgasm shouldn't have taken him by surprise, but it did. One can only wince at such a jarring scream.

 _God..._ Never in her life had she come so violently. Liz felt as if she'd been ripped in half and tossed into the air, and then she was falling, falling back into the sea to chum the waters around them.

The feeding frenzy had already begun.

When at last she opened her eyes, coherent enough to realize that he was still inside her, she found his expression agog, his eyes as dark as the sky from which she'd fallen. Were it not so sexy, she would have laughed. Instead, she gripped the back of his neck and gave a solid upward thrust, pulsing around him with the last of her strength. "Your turn, Raymond."

He didn't really want it to be his turn yet. He wanted to be inside her forever, but she certainly wouldn't allow that. Pure determination and confidence graced her features as she made immediate use of every button that she knew to push.

Pulsing squeezes around his cock.

Her mouth latching onto the scar on his neck.

One hand on his ass, the other lacing her fingers with his.

His given name a hiss, directly into his ear. _"Raymond.."_

Red came like a fiery backdraft exploding through an open door, and the throb of him emptying triggered her to explode with him once more. This time, with great effort, she managed to keep her eyes open and trained on his face. His cheeks were drawn in, his lips pursed, and his brow furrowed. He was completely at her mercy.

Minutes later, as she lay cradled in his arms, Liz's body still buzzed for him. She traced over his face with her thumb. It felt so good to finally be able to inspect him up close. His features were too nuanced to properly observe from afar. "Tell me this: do you feel any closer to home, now?"

He turned his head to press a kiss to her scar before replying, "Yes, closer. Brighter, too."


End file.
